Pain
by Prisoner1602
Summary: ZADR, Dib and Zim. Written for a 100 theme challenge.


Okay, so my first random ramble for ZADR. I don't know what was going on in my head at the time. For a note, Dib here is 18. Or should be. Sorry it's not specifically mentioned, but... He's legal. Promise. And I neither own, nor make money off of this.

* * *

><p>Human affection is pain based.<p>

Zim knows that too well. The humans do filthy, disgusting things. The awful way they have of giving _meat_ to those they "love". The way they have of making those… wet.. Smacky noises with their faces together. The disgusting custom of mating, with the disgusting ways they use their mouths. The _DISGUSTING_ way they mate, even.

He's researched it, and studied it, but there is no way it can be true. The videos, the stories, they must be false! Nothing, not even a dirt baby, would WILLINGLY do that. They got so… messy and gross.

Which is why he fights. He screams, shrieks, yells, shouts. He bites, scratches, throws punches, and kicks. He wails, threatens, and begs. He pleads, he bargains. He squirms, writhes, twitches, flails, rolls, lays limp. He shouts obscenities until the threat to _make_ him shut up is used- and accompanied by _the_ look and _the _voice.

_The_ look is one he knows well; it's been used many times. Or… Well, it's a variation of **THE** look. **THE** look being the one that's used when things get serious, like **THE** voice. _The_ look is one that says what Zim wants doesn't matter. What Zim wants doesn't matter when _the _voice is used, either.

But it works. When those come into play, Zim quiets. He'd called it as a bluff the first time; he'd ended up with a sore throat and a burning squeedleyspooch for his troubles. And sore antennae. They'd been pulled, yanked on, bitten and burned… They twitched in irritation even now.

_The_ look and _the_ voice mean Zim is going to be hurt. There's always the promise that he won't hurt this time, but he always does. He might not bleed; and he never does. Never has there been blood spilled from his alien veins. The only blood has been from his… partner. But it still hurts, it still causes pain and burning.

He's not handled badly. In fact, he might quite like the lead up to it, the gentle touches, the attention, the murmured words. He may not like everything, but the praise feeds his ego. He's beautiful, he's perfect, he's flawless. He's gorgeous, his skin is so soft, it's so smooth. Those last ones he brushes off; all Irkens are hairless, all Irkens have flawless skin. No visible veins, no wrinkles. It's so odd, when he lets his mind go, when he lets himself think about how different he is from his partner.

The praise gives way to hurt, though. The kisses, the wet, burning licks…. His partner thinks they feel good. Thinks kissing and licking at where nipples should be does anything. It just irritates his skin, burns him, causes him to squirm. It's always misinterpreted; it's never out of want, just out of discomfort, but it drives his partner on. Lower, until Zim is squirming and whimpering and nearly pleading for it to stop. Of course, it had the opposite effect. Instead of stopping, the attention shifts. Zim's antennae are the next victims of that hideous burning. From tip to base, the fragile black stalks are licked, kissed, nipped and nuzzled. The last… The last would feel good, if not for the fact that it came last, after each antenna is sore, raw, and stinging.

Then the hurt shifts to _pain_.

That's not to say Zim can't take anything that this filthy planet can dish out. He can, and he **does**. He does all the time. But it's so painful, to have something in that sensitive area. Zim tries to argue; it's not made for that, it's not supposed to be there, it's the part he doesn't use, but nothing stops the other. Nothing ever does at this point, even when Zim is writhing in pain because of the… the _thing_ inside him.

But his partner is stubborn. With oddly gentle hands, Zim is touched, teased, and distracted from the pain for a while. It doesn't last; it never does. By the time Zim actually… enjoyed it, he was in pain again. His squeedleyspooch was on _fire_, and no amount of squirming or pleading would fix it. Nothing helped the burn of the fluid inside him, and he was so sure he was going to die this time. He whimpered, pleaded, almost _begged_ for relief, and only quieted once he felt the softness of a cool, Irken-made cloth pressed to the spot. It didn't fix things, it didn't stop the pain, but the clean, damp cloth soothed him all the same.

Once he'd settled again, Zim had shifted onto his side, settling down to rest and let his body heal. Something different happened this time, though. The human that had just caused him so much pain bent over and brushed his lips over the alien's cheek; a light touch, nothing that hurt. No burning, no stinging. Just words. Three short little ones that even Zim hardly heard.

"I love you."

Then the human had settled down, curling up under blankets. He'd never tell Zim, never admit that he'd been saying those words each time. Silent, just mouthing them… And he would never know how much they confused Zim.

Which is why he understands the Dib. He doesn't know the human laying next to him, sleeping, his hair still spiked from the large amounts of goop he slathers it in every morning, even with what had gone on. Not a lot of it makes sense, as he lays next to Dib, watching the human's chest rise and fall. But Dib loves him, and the pain of it is proof of that.

Human affection _is_ pain based, after all.


End file.
